Paopu Island
by Tala Mitena
Summary: A collection of RikuxSora oneshots written for the fanfic100 LiveJournal challenge. Rated M for safety, as ratings and genres will vary.
1. 018: Black

**Author's Note:** (edited July 22, 2006) I changed the title of this from "Black" to "Paopu Island" as I will now be using it as a place to post my one-shots for the LiveJouranl community, fanfic100.

This first oneshot is for Prompt 018: Black

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Black

Sora shivered, whimpering in the darkness as he squeezed his eyes shut against the black this act only strengthened. He clutched his blanket to him, wringing it in his hands – hands which yielded a formidable weapon; the hands of the hero. Those hands. . .

One cerulean eye slipped open cautiously to peer at an outstretched hand. It was pale against the darkness, but all Sora could see was black. Black shifting against the blacker shadows, black moonlight pouring in through the windows to dance with its distant, black cousin.

Black muscles twisting and springing to life, leaping towards him with outstretched hands that mirrored his own, black muscles twitching and contracting in pain as something not black, yielded by a not black twin, came in sharp, black contact with the screeching black monster.

A monster. A black monster inside a scared child who was supposed to be Hero. No one saw it. Not Kairi, not Yuffie, not Leon. No one saw it, but the monster was there. Sora could feel the blackness of it, the cold black that slithered deep in the hidden black alleys of his heart. No one saw it. Sora felt it, but no one saw it.

No. Riku saw it. Riku saw it, and embraced it. He saw it and he gave it the blackness. He gave it a shape, and that shape had been Sora's.

A warning? A warning of what could be, a warning that Sora must ignore the black in his heart or he will soon be like this black Sora, this Anti-Sora? A warning?

No.

That black was not Sora's. Sora's black had no shape and it stretched across all the worlds, eating them, devouring them as Sora watched the light recede and struggled against the gorging black.

That black, the Anti-Sora, was Riku's black.

Sora was Riku's black, his darkness.

Sora, the hero, the Light of the Worlds, was Sora's black, his darkness, even as Riku was Sora's light, the beacon that cut through Sora's black, urging him on. Sora fought to save Riku, but…

Sora was the very thing Riku had found in the black that lurked in his heart.

Sora wrapped the blanket around him tightly and stumbled out of bed, tripping over the black objects hidden in the black shadows. He did not bother wiping away the warm tears that rolled down his cheeks as he fumbled for the light switch, he only sighed as the black flew away and he slipped the floor, curling into a tight ball.

"Riku," he whispered, and the sacred word was darkened by the black shadows that had stolen a bit of Sora's heart.


	2. 056: Breakfast

Author's Note: I've made a not-so-New Year's resolution to work on a one-shot for either Cyfateh or Paopu Island every day. So, expect an update on this little collection about every other day! Wee!!

This is prompt 056: Breakfast.

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Making You Breakfast

"I'm taking you out to breakfast," he says, his excitement hiding behind hushed words.

He insists that they sleep, that there is no time to play.

"I'm taking you out to breakfast. We'll have to get up early."

But Sora is stubborn, and Riku can never say no to the brunette's roaming fingers and lips.

"I'm making you breakfast," he says, late into the night, as they cling to each other in the aftermath.

Sora agrees to the change of plans.

When he wakes, at the brink of brunch, Riku is missing and Sora smiles contentedly.

As he walks down the hall, heading towards the kitchen, he sniffs the air in anticipation, hoping to guess at what Riku is cooking.

But there is nothing there; no tangy scent of frying bacon, no warm aroma of pancakes and waffles.

And in the kitchen there is only Riku, sitting at a table which holds nothing but a bottle of syrup.

So, Sora pouts, padding across the cold floor to stand next to his lover and thread fingers through his filigree hair. As Riku wraps an arm around his waist, and presses kisses to his bare stomach, he asks where breakfast is.

A low chuckle rumbles in the older boy's throat as his lips spread into a smirk, sliding mischievously against Sora's skin.

"I'm making you breakfast," he'd said.

Sora had heard the words, agreed to the plans, but Sora had never expected this.

He struggles weakly - surprised, not unwilling – as Riku slides a hand up his chest and pushes him backwards, the brunette's back colliding with the smooth wood of their kitchen table.

Lips scorch his neck and fingers tear at his clothing, as shivers race across his frame.

Riku expertly undresses him, while keeping one hand free to reach for the syrup.

And finally, Sora understands.

"I'm making _you_ breakfast," Riku whispers huskily as he flicks the bottle open.


	3. 073: Blink

Author's Note: Okay, I made a New Year's resolution to finish this baby, so here comes my extremely belated next installment. This one's real short, but I think it's pretty sweet...

Prompt 073: Light

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Blink  


At times, Riku thought his eyes would never readjust to the light. He still blinked and squinted in the bright island days, even after all the time that had passed. He'd readjusted to normal life, which no one had thought possible. He, Sora, and Kairi had all agreed - life without Keyblades, without the threat of Heartless would be surreal. As strange as that sounded, they'd become used to everything that had once seemed so unreal. For Riku and Sora, it had become their entire lives, their purpose.

And yet, somehow, they'd both finally managed to leave it in a corner of their minds and concentrate on living their lives...normally.

He still blinked and squinted, but he still hated the night. He wasn't used to light anymore, and that corner of his mind was just too small to contain the fear that the normal, everyday darkness brought for him. Every shadow was a reminder, a small temptation.

But he knew he would always remain in the light. Because no matter how much he blinked, no matter how much he squinted, whether or not his eyes would ever readjust, the light held one thing he would always return to.

The light had Sora.


End file.
